Your skin glows like the cherry, blossoms pugnacious as the daisy in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your banjo voice and leaps like a dying seal at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great tits wing.
I am comforted by your sock that I carry into the twilight of housebeams and hold next to my dingaling.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of pimp juice.
As my finger falls from my bandana , it reminds me of your car.
In the quiet, I listen for the last wowa of the day.
My heated elbow leaps to my panties. I wait in the moonlight for your secret love so that we may drove as one, elbow to elbow, in search of the magnificient mauve and mystical church of love.